


Burdened with Greatness

by Paarthursass



Series: Skyrim Kink Meme [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Porn with some plot, Skyrim Kink Meme, also porn with politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7257799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paarthursass/pseuds/Paarthursass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dragonborn frustrates Ulfric Stormcloak in more ways than one.  Unfortunately, finding a release for that frustration is surprisingly difficult for the Bear of the North.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt:
> 
> "Ulfric can be a difficult man to deal with, moody, tormented, he's an imposing man, very serious, very intimidating and all, but what most people don't know is that Ulfric has a hidden quality as well...
> 
> Yes, you know where I'm going with this: Ulfric is very, very, and I mean VERY well endowed.
> 
> Girth, length, he has it all, and not in the average "hey, you're quite lucky down there!" way, but he's huge, enough to make Orcs, Altmer and Redguard feel inadequate.
> 
> Unfortunately, it's also enough to pose a problem, since there is such a thing as too much when it comes to this sort of... gift.
> 
> Enter the DB(hehee...), who gets to discover this not-so-little detail about the Jarl.How that happens, under what circumstances, what happens next, is up to you!
> 
> Maybe she's a size queen and takes it as a challenge with quite some enthusiasm, or maybe that's the only obstacle to their otherwise perfect chemistry.
> 
> Maybe that's the reason Ulfric never married and has no heir ("I'm sorry, this is not going to work, I'll find a husband who isn't half giant!") or maybe the DB finds out just on her wedding night...
> 
> I think there is potential for anything you want: make it silly, make it acrobatic, make it angsty, disturbing, do whatever you like with it!
> 
> Small races would fit better (oh, come on! why is this prompt filled... with all this stupid puns' material?!) in the story, so bring your Bretons, Bosmer, Dunmer or small Imperials!
> 
> Oh, and I said DB, but if you want to use a NPC, I'm perfectly ok with that."
> 
> Also my first skm fill, and my first smut. Whooooo boy.

The Dragonborn was, without a doubt, the most _infuriating_ woman in all of Skyrim. 

He hadn’t thought much of her, when he first saw her in that cart headed for Helgen.  Even among Imperials she seemed tiny, and he had snorted at how the gooseflesh crept onto her dusky skin at the barely brisk chill that swept down from the mountains. 

Imperials had no place in Skyrim.  They were too fragile, too soft.  They could barely handle the climate, and that wasn’t even the worst of the dangers that the land had to offer. 

And yet, he was ready to begrudgingly admit that the woman was hardier than he thought.  She kept her head better than the milk drinkers the Imperials recruited, and he saw glimpses of her braving the burning town, still bound but with a fire in her eyes. 

He could admire that. 

What he couldn’t admire was her bursting into the Palace of Kings months later and biting his head off in front of his council. 

“Disgraceful!” her voice boomed through the hall.  “Absolutely disgraceful!”

His thanes and Jorleif quieted, but Galmar and the guards immediately drew their weapons.  The Dragonborn paid them no mind, however, and strode right up to the throne until she was a mere few paces in front of the jarl.

“Ah, Jarl Ulfric!” Jorleif stammered, and waved for the guards to stand down.  “Th-this is Isolena Olcanis.  She has so graciously agreed to undertake investigation of the recent murders,” he lowered his voice to a murmur, and gave Ulfric a pointed look.  “She’s also the woman your spies have been reporting to you about.  _The Dragonborn_.”

Ulfric considered the fuming Imperial before him, and then motioned for the guards to follow Jorleif’s instructions.  They reluctantly lowered their weapons, but kept a careful watch of the tiny woman.

“Have you had a break in the investigation?” he asked.

“Oh, more than a break.  I’ve _solved_ it,” she snapped.  Her dark gaze snapped over to Jorleif. 

“How long did you say these murders have been going on?  Two weeks, at least?  And the guards have been ‘too busy with the war’ to investigate?”

She drew three leather-bound books from her pack, and tossed them at the feet of the throne.

“You’ll find evidence in those journals that Calixto Corrium was the culprit.  You’ll also find his body in the Stone District.  A very shaken Altmer named Arivanye can testify to the fact that he was attempting to make her victim number four before I intervened.”

She gave everyone in the room a hard look, and then turned her gaze to Jorleif once more.

“Jorleif, will you please tell everyone when I started the investigation?”

Ulfric looked to his advisor, who had grown pale.  He gave Ulfric a nervous look, and then licked his lips.

“…yesterday morning.”

“Yesterday,” Isolena repeated, her voice growing in volume.  “I spend _one day_ following the clues, and I solve a mystery that has had your guards befuddled for _two weeks_.”

The guards in the room shifted uncomfortably, and Ulfric straightened indignantly in his seat.

“As any of these fine soldiers will tell you,” he began, his voice low. “Our resources are stretched thin with the war.”

“So thin that you can’t bother to follow an actual _trail of blood_ to the killer’s lair and find incriminating evidence?” her eyes flashed, and Ulfric felt his own temper rising. 

“We _do not_ have time to check every dark corner of this city!”

“Ah yes, because you’re too busy slaughtering elves and Imperials to bother looking after your own people!” Isolena’s eyes seemed to brighten, despite her ire.  Her chest was heaving, and Ulfric realized with a start that she enjoyed this.  She _enjoyed_ screaming at the most powerful man in Skyrim in a room full of his supporters. 

Were he not angry with the girl, he would have found that attractive. 

In fact, his anger might have only _increased_ his attraction, if the sudden uncomfortable straining against his trousers was anything to go by.

“If this is how you look after one city, I shudder to think how you’ll rule all of Skyrim.”

The silence in the room was deafening.  Everyone held their breath.  Even Galmar had gone deathly still.  The only thing that seemed to be moving was the electricity travelling between Isolena and Ulfric. 

He was _boiling_.  His knuckles were white as he clenched at the armrests of his throne. 

And that damn Imperial _smiled_. 

He had half a mind to order her arrested, Dragonborn or not.  No, no he wanted to tackle her himself, no matter how undignified it might seem.  He wanted to pin her beneath him and feel her _writhe_.

His cock twitched at that thought.

“It would be in your best interest to leave, Dragonborn,” he growled. 

Her smile widened, and he again entertained the thought of having her chained in the dungeons where he could punish her however he liked.  But she spoke before he could turn that into reality.

“Best of luck with your campaign, Jarl Ulfric.”

She turned, and his cock throbbed again as he watched the sway of her hips.  When she was gone, everyone in the room heaved a sigh of relief, and Galmar turned to Ulfric.

“Shall I put a bounty on her head?”

Ulfric chose not to reply, and instead tried to think of horkers and the Sea of Ghosts and magic-wielding elves.  Anything except the thrice-damned Dragonborn.

He managed to get himself under control for the rest of the council, but when night came he locked himself in his room, stripped off his furs and rutted into his fist.  It wasn’t as sweet as a woman’s touch, but he closed his eyes and imagined her.  That masochistic glint in her eyes as he ripped those thin, figure-hugging leathers off her and pushed her into his bed. 

He’d take her from behind.  The mattress would barely muffle her cries as he’d pound into her, and with her size she’d be so _warm_ and _tight_ around him.

She’d try to fight him for control; try to turn around or even force them into a switch of positions.  Maybe he’d allow it, just to see the look of ecstasy on her face as she bounced on his cock.  But then he’d pin her back down and pound into her until she screamed for the whole palace to hear.  So everyone would know. 

The Dragonborn was _his_. 

He had a difficult time cleaning up the mess he’d made, once he had cleared his head of that tantalizing fantasy.  But the release of his pent up tension had done little to change the fact that when he closed his eyes he still saw her.  Smirking at him, _daring_ him to try something. 

Maybe he’d rise to the bait someday. 


	2. Chapter 2

Things only got worse for Ulfric as the months passed. 

He sent out more spies, told them to keep an eye and an ear open for any news of Isolena Olcanis.  That was a mistake.  _Any_ reminder of her was a mistake.  And these _particular_ reminders were definitely making the situation worse. 

She was, evidently, _very_ good at keeping a low profile.  And very good at making connections.  The woman was a political animal and an expert at espionage.  She had a different name in each hold, and Ulfric couldn’t be sure which one was real.  He hadn’t been paying enough attention to hear what she’d told the legionnaire at Helgen, and even _that_ might have been a lie. 

But she didn’t just have a different _name_ in every hold.  Each name had a corresponding _title_.  She had somehow managed to become Thane of every hold, save his own.  Which meant she naturally owned property in every hold.  Even in the Pale, Hjaalmarch, and Falkreath, where she had apparently built _three_ flourishing homesteads for herself. 

Out of curiosity, Ulfric inquired how much she had paid for her home in Solitude, capitol of Imperial Skyrim.  The staggering answer of nearly _forty thousand septims_ for the property and renovations told him she was more than just a simple adventurer.   Further inquiry confirmed his suspicions. 

It was all rumor, of course, but his spies told him that she evidently was wrestling with Maven Black-Briar for control of Riften, something that no one else had been able to do since the old bitch came into power.  Further digging revealed she may have been the one to raise the Thieves Guild from the stinking pit it had fallen into.  There were other whispers, something about nightingales, but Ulfric didn’t pay those much mind when more rumors started circulating in. 

The death of the Emperor stirred things up quite a bit, and his spies soon confirmed that she was suspected to be involved.  That she had ties to the Dark Brotherhood as well, and that she had helped them fake their own demise so they could work without fear of interruption.  Ulfric wasn’t sure how much he trusted these rumors, but they were enough to make him believe that she was consorting with characters more unsavory than simple thieves.

And more and more kept filtering in.  Deals with daedra, with the Forsworn, with necromancers and vampires and _cannibals_.  Ulfric didn’t know _what_ to believe, but the number of disturbing rumors was enough to unsettle him. 

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.  She was wicked, she had put a spell on him he was sure.  But every night he closed his eyes and he saw her there.  And he would have to unlace his trousers to take care of the painful nuisance there. 

Maybe she’d sneak into his quarters at night, on commission to steal something perhaps.  Or even to assassinate him.  But he’d catch her, she’d give him that infuriating smirk, and he’d slam her against the wall and…

And, well, the fantasies usually went to the same place after that. 

But the more he had these daydreams, the more his hand became increasingly inadequate.  He needed a woman.  A real, warm, willing woman.

Unfortunately, this was when another nuisance became apparent.

It had been a source of pride when he was younger; he and the other boys his age would snicker and pull down their trousers to compare.  To say he would always win wouldn’t even come close to truly indicating how _gifted_ he was.

It started to pose a problem when he’d tried to actually bed women.  He had been successful, of course, but the women never seemed to be eager for a repeat performance.  No matter how gentle he tried to be…

And oh, how _jealous_ he used to get when he would sit at the fire and his comrades would share stories about the virgins they’d deflowered.  He had long ago given up any hope of bedding a _virgin_ ; they all lost their nerve as soon as his trousers hit the floor. 

As he got older he had managed to distract himself with other pursuits – his time in High Hrothgar _greatly_ increased his self-control – but with the recent problem of the Dragonborn…he decided to see if perhaps Skyrim’s women had gotten hardier.

They hadn’t.  Even the whores he had brought in secret would tremble at the sight of him, and he refused to take a woman weeping from fear. 

Unfortunately, Isolena continued to haunt his thoughts.  And Ulfric was nearly _mad_ with sexual frustration. 

So he was almost relieved when his window opened one night and a tiny assassin crept in.

 

The war council had run late, with Galmar and his commanders arguing over strategy and what seemed to be the usual for these discussions.  When Ulfric finally retired to his room he was tense and tired and, for once, _not_ longing for the infuriating Imperial.

But as he closed the door to his chambers, he felt a draft tickle the back of his neck.  The jarl tensed, and slowly turned. 

The window was conspicuously open, and the lights from the Aurora Borealis cast an eerie green glow in the room. 

Ulfric immediately stiffened, and his hand went to his axe.  But before he could so much as move the voice he had been dreaming about spoke.

“Come now; those spies you’ve sent after me _must_ have told you I’m better than leaving the window open.”

Ulfric whirled around, and there she was.  Lounging in a chair, her feet propped up as she twirled a dagger in hand.  The leathers she wore were Dark Brotherhood, there was no mistaking them.  And they oh so tantalizingly hugged the curves of her small form.  She didn’t wear the customary cowl, but her dark hair was mussed and tucked into the back of her armor.  She’d only just taken it off.

She was smiling, too.  That same, _infuriating_ smile with that dangerous glint in her dark eyes.

“If I wanted to kill you I would have done it by now.”

Despite the fantasies he’d had about her sneaking into his room at night, Ulfric kept his hand at his weapon.  “What do you want, Imperial?” he spat at her. 

She chuckled, and she lowered her feet to the ground before standing and sheathing her weapon.  “Now now, there’s no need to call me that, _Ulfric_.  You know my name by now, or should I say _names_?  Do you have a favorite?” her smile widened as she bared her teeth; Ulfric knew he should have found it unsettling, but instead he just felt his cock twitch in his trousers. 

Damn her.

“What do you want?” he repeated, his glare dark.

She considered him for a moment, and then turned to give the room a wandering inspection.  Ulfric inappropriately took the opportunity to glance at the _wonderful_ view of her leather-clad backside.

“I’ve come to warn you, believe it or not,” she casually replied.  She turned to look at him, and Ulfric’s gaze shot up to meet her eyes. 

“Maven Black-Briar seems to think that getting rid of you would secure her position in this world.  That her connections with the Empire would give her the power to wrench Riften back from my grasp, once you’re out of the picture.  She could just kill me, of course, but for some reason she must see _you_ as the easier target.  She’s tried to put out an order with the Dark Brotherhood , but it seems as if the Night Mother isn’t hearing Maven’s prayers.”  A smile twitched onto Isolena’s lips.

Ulfric remained wary. “So an old crone wants me dead.  I have far more deadly enemies than Maven Black-Briar.”

“But have any of them considered going to the Morag Tong?” Isolena raised her eyebrows.  “Word is Maven’s been trying to reach them.”

Ulfric curled his upper lip.  “Dark elf assassins?”

“Yes, because you’ve been _so_ _kind_ to the Dunmer in the past,” the Imperial drawled.

The jarl narrowed his eyes, and turned away from the Dragonborn to stride to his closet. 

“If the only information you have is that someone wants me dead, then I’m afraid your information is severely outdated.  Leave before I have you removed.”

“I didn’t just come to warn you.” Ulfric froze.  Somehow she was right there, only a few inches away form him.  He could feel the warmth from her ghosting across his back, and his loins throbbed as she placed a hand on his arm.

“If the Empire wins, Riften is as good as Maven’s.  She has contacts in the highest parts of their order, and since Layla so _loyally_ supports your cause, she’s sure to be dethroned in favor of the Black-Briar Bitch.”

Ulfric didn’t speak, didn’t even turn to look at her.  He was trying to keep himself under control.  That control was nearly broken when she stood on the tips of her toes and leaned forward, and her hot breath tickled at his ear.

“But if you were to _win_ this tedious war,” she murmured. “Layla could keep her position, and Maven finally thrown out as an Imperial supporter.”

Ulfric deeply inhaled as he fought to keep his composure. 

“If you are suggesting to me that I _try to win_ ,” he said through clenched teeth. “I can assure you that the thought _has_ crossed my mind once or twice.”

A low chuckle escaped her, and she slid out from behind him and stood only a hair’s breath away, face-to-face.  Or as close to face-to-face as they could get, with him nearly foot taller than her. 

“What I am suggesting,” she lifted her eyebrows. “Is that I join your cause.”


	3. Chapter 3

It took Ulfric a moment to respond, the jarl sure that he had misheard her. 

“You crept into my chambers in the middle of the night,” he said slowly. “To tell me you’re _enlisting_?”

“Well, I didn’t want to make a _scene_ of things,” Isolena’s eyes twinkled. “Besides, don’t you think it would give you a certain advantage if my loyalties were left…secret?  I’m at my best when I’m in the shadows, not on the battlefield.”

“Open combat may be required of you either way.”

“Then I’ll adapt.  I’m quite _flexible_.”

 Before Ulfric could comprehend that, her mouth was on his.  Part of Ulfric wondered how she had reached him with her short stature, but most of him was entirely focused on the kiss. 

She tasted of jazzbay.  She was so wonderfully warm, and Ulfric marveled at how tiny she seemed as he wrapped his arms around her waist.  Her arms encircled his neck, and he felt her fingers pushing into his hair and massaging his scalp.  His cock was already throbbing with want, but then she ran her tongue across the seam of his lips.  He opened his mouth to allow her entrance, but she pulled away with that maddening smirk playing across her lips again.

“So, _Jarl Ulfric_ ,” she purred.  “Will you have me?”

Ulfric licked his lips, and briefly worried that his trousers would rip from the strain against them. 

“I don’t trust you,” his voice was raspy, and he privately cursed himself for losing his head over a kiss.  A _kiss_.  He wasn’t some green youth!

Isolena just laughed, and her dark eyes twinkled.  

“I’ll earn it,” she promised. “Though quite frankly I’m a little disappointed; didn’t those spies of yours tell you I eliminated the Emperor?  _Surely_ that’s an indicator that I’m not terribly patriotic.”

“It’s an indicator that you like gold,” he growled in reply.  His head had cleared a little, but her arms were still wound around his neck.  He realized that she must have jumped up to kiss him, because she was quite literally hanging from his shoulders.  And despite the hostility of his words, he adjusted his grip to better hold her against him.

She laughed again.  “True.  I got an _immense_ amount of pleasure using what I was paid for assassinating the Emperor to buy a home in the Empire’s strongest foothold in Skyrim.”

Ulfric grunted.  He had to admit the irony of that was rather…beautiful. 

In a despicable sort of way.

She was an _assassin_.  The gold she had was covered in blood.  She’d consorted with Daedra, had potentially partaken in _cannibalism_ , and….

He couldn’t place her smell.  It was soft and sweet – perhaps lavender, though more likely some expensive perfume from Cyrodiil. 

“Why are you doing this?” his voice was quiet, but eyes shone with an intensity that wasn’t there as he studied her face. 

Freckles dotted her cheeks and nose.  They were only a shade or two darker than russet colored skin; faded from time spent in the shadows as opposed to the sun.  But they weren’t gone.  She hadn’t spent her whole life in the dark.  Somewhere, in her past, she had played in the light.

“I told you,” she said. “I thought it would be best if my involvement were kept secret.”

He tightened his grip around her waist, and he pressed his forehead against hers as a growl escaped him.

“No.” He was staring right into her eyes.  He could see how her pupils grew at the change in proximity. “There are any number of ways you could have hidden your intention to join me.  Why did you sneak into my chambers in the middle of the night?”

_And why did you kiss me, and why are your arms still around me, and why am I still holding you?_

Her gaze didn’t waver, but she shifted her face slightly and Ulfric’s breath caught in his throat as her lips brushed against his. 

“Maybe I wanted to see how you’d react,” she murmured.  “Maybe I wanted to see how the Bear of the North would react to being visited by a thief, assassin, and potential daedra-worshipping cannibal.”

Ulfric resisted the urge to lean forward and capture her mouth with his. 

“Potential?” he asked instead.

She chuckled, and her fingers idly combed through his hair. 

“Oh, you musn’t trust everything your spies tell you.  I started some of those rumors myself, after all.”

In response to the feeling of her massaging his scalp, Ulfric began to rub slow circles on the small of her back. 

“And why would you spread such vile slander about yourself?”

She grinned, and Ulfric’s heart began to pound as she again pressed her lips against his.  The kiss was slower, and deeper this time.  It rose in a crescendo as she tightened her arms about his neck and held her body close to his.  He groaned and let his hand trail up her back and to the base of her neck.  He eased her hair free of its confines, and fisted the silky locks as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.  No more standing idly by while she played him like a fiddle. 

She reacted well to his attentions; he felt the slight shudder run through her small frame, and he responded by kissing her harder and with increasing ardor.  She responded in kind, and her velvety tongue so wickedly teased his own. 

She was the first to pull away, and though he mourned the separation Ulfric noted with a certain amount of pride that her cheeks were flushed and her hair tantalizingly mussed.  He could feel the rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath.

“I just remembered the third reason I snuck in here tonight,” she said. 

Ulfric hummed, and leaned forward to nuzzle throat.

“And what reason is that?” He moved to nip at the skin of her throat, but she slipped out of his grip and Ulfric found himself cold and alone. 

The jarl turned in confusion, and saw the Dragonborn rummaging through a pack she’d left in the corner.  When she rose, she held a journal in hand – much like when they first, truly met. 

“What is it?” he asked licking his lips and coughing.  He hoped the dark lighting of the room was enough to hide the embarrassing tent in his trousers.

“Something I found while snooping through the Thalmor Embassy.”

If there was anything that could banish an erection for Ulfric, it was the mention of the Thalmor.  Immediately his head cleared, and he grabbed the dossier from the Imperial’s hand.

“What were you doing in there?” he hissed as he began to thumb through the pages.

“Classified Dragonborn business, I’m afraid.”

Ulfric might have had a retort ready for that, but his blood chilled as he stared at the writing in front of him. 

“Did you read this?” he asked, his voice low.

“Of course I did.”

“You had no right.”

“I’ve done plenty of things I’ve had no right to; reading what the Thalmor seem to think you’re useful for is rather low on that list.”

Ulfric closed the journal firmly, and his jaw flexed. “Did you show this to anyone else?” he demanded.

“No.”

Ulfric’s eyes shot up to look at the Imperial woman, and she arched an eyebrow.  “ _No_.  I’m not an idiot, and I know that dossier could be the spark that sets Skyrim to explode into chaos.  Well, _more_ chaos.”

Ulfric took in a shaky breath, and he looked down once more at the leather cover before looking away.

“…thank you, for bringing this to my attention.”

There was a pause, and Ulfric knew she was looking at him.  Considering him.  Had his thanks surprised her?

“You’re welcome,” she finally said, and the jarl turned to see a small, curious smile on the Dragonborn’s face.  “My first instinct was to burn it, but then I thought that you might appreciate knowing that this entire war is playing into the Thalmor’s plot.”

Ulfric’s eyes narrowed.  “So that’s why you want to join.  You’ve made an enemy of the Empire in murdering their figurehead, but you want to see this war ended.”

“Everyone wants to see this war ended.”

“But you have reason more than most.”

Isolena pursed her lips, and for the first time Ulfric saw the playful glint leave her eyes.  In fact, he would have almost said it was replaced with… _fear_. 

“There’s something I have to do,” she admitted.  “Something important.  And I can’t do it while this war rages on.  Negotiating a truce would provide a more immediate respite, but…” she hesitated, and pursed her lips before firmly looking away.

“…if I perish, then this war will rage on and the Thalmor will get exactly what they want.”

She looked him straight in the eye, and Ulfric was stunned by the sober intensity that lay in those dark depths. 

“I may not agree with all your ideologies, and I may think you’re bigoted and ego-fueled.  But the Thalmor’s ego is even bigger than yours, and it would be a _marvelous_ blow to them for you to come out of this war the victor.” 

Ulfric stared at her for a moment longer, and then in an instant he closed the space between them and captured her mouth in a searing kiss.  He had to bend over quite a ways to reach her, but he didn’t care.

When they parted, his hands were cupping her face and his thumbs stroking her cheek.  Her eyelids fluttered open, and then the familiar grin spread onto her lips.

“You really get off on insubordination, don’t you?”

“I like a challenge.”

“Oh, I could tell that from the moment I burst into your throne room.” Her hands were fluttering across his chest, and slowly moving lower.  Ulfric’s breath grew more ragged as her fingers reached his waist.

“And I think everyone else in the room would have been able to tell, too, if you’d been forced to _stand_.”

Isolena brushed her fingers across the crotch of his pants, and his cock immediately reacted to the brief, covered contact.  She paused, and Ulfric saw her eyes widen as she brazenly pressed her entire hand against him, eliciting a low groan from the jarl. 

“In fact, I’m surprised these trousers of yours hid anything at all.”

Ulfric met her gaze, and he noticed with a start that her pupils had dilated again.  Her cheeks were flushed, and her chest was slowly rising and falling.

He tried to remind himself of the women who’d made hurried excuses to leave his bed, the ones who trembled and the maidens who practically fled.

He didn’t want to frighten her away so quickly. 

But Ulfric had very little time to decide on the best course of action, because Isolena had already chosen.  She crashed her lips against his and slung her arms around his neck.  All thoughts of proceeding with caution were banished as tongues and teeth clashed together. 

His hands traveled down her shoulders and sides, brushing against the sides of her breasts before resting at her hips.  The prolonged bending of his back was starting to become tiresome, so he cupped the curves of her backside and lifted her.  She responded by wrapping her legs around his middle, and even through the thick layers of fur and leather separating them Ulfric could feel the warmth radiating from her core.

He’d chance it.  He had been aching for this for _months_ – he would chance it. 

The way to the bed seemed an unnecessarily long distance, and Ulfric entertained the idea of taking her against the wall, or even just here with nothing but his arms to support her.  But no, he wanted to do more than fuck her senseless.  Maybe, if she could take him, _then_ they’d pay a visit to the wall.

But for now he decided to walk to the bed.  He held Isolena securely in his arms, and moved his kisses to her neck.  She was sighing at his attentions, but he finally got a moan from her when he clamped his teeth down at the base of her shoulder. 

He deposited her on the sheets, and immediately started removing his gauntlets and cloak.  She watched him eagerly for a moment, but then quickly went about removing her gloves and boots.  Ulfric had stripped down to his trousers when she started fiddling with a strap on her armor.  Ulfric found her eagerness to get started amusing, but he placed a firm hand on her shoulder to stay her actions. 

“Allow me.”

She lowered her hands, and Ulfric climbed onto the bed to resume his suckling of her neck.  He didn’t start removing her armor right away, instead stroking his hands along the curves of her body.  He squeezed at her covered breasts, and received a moan in return. 

It took him a moment to find the right straps and buckles – all the while Isolena laughing as she ran her hands up and down his chest – but like a skilled lockpick he found all the right latches, and eagerly pealed the armor away from her.

He noticed that she had faded freckles on her shoulders, just as she did on her face.  But he soon forgot the freckles as he pulled more of the armor off and saw that she wasn’t wearing any smallclothes.  Her pert breasts were laid bare to him, and her dark nipples hardened upon contact with the cool draft left from the open window. 

Well, he’d have to go about fixing that. 

With a hungry growl he took one of her breasts in his mouth and teased the nipple with his teeth.  Isolena gasped, and Ulfric pushed her so she was laying back on the bed.  He gave her other breast a squeeze, but then lowered his hands to finish removing her armor.  She squirmed and moaned as he revealed more of her amber flesh to the cold air, but he warmed her with kisses and licks and bites.

She keened when her warm center was exposed to the draft, but Ulfric ignored it.  He worked the rest of her trousers off, and placed lingering kisses on her calf and ankle.  He glanced up, and was greeted with the sight of Isolena panting and glaring down at him. 

“Bastard.”

“Debatable.”

He yanked her hips towards him then, and he was licking and lapping at her entrance.  She cried out and arched backwards, and Ulfric’s cock again made itself known.  As he slipped his tongue between her velvety folds he became painfully aware that he very much wanted to be burying something _else_ in her.

Talos preserve him, she was so tight and warm, and she tasted so _sweet_.  He let a finger join his tongue in penetrating her, and the sounds she started making were _sinful_.  He used his other hand to keep her hips firmly on the bed, and continued to drink up her juices.  His trousers were growing more and more uncomfortable by the second, but he ignored his discomfort and pressed his thumb to her nub.  She cried out, and he grinned.

He continued his ministrations; thrusting his tongue in and out of her while he pinched and flicked at her clit.  Her cries grew louder, and from the way her walls spasmed around his tongue, Ulfric knew she was close.

So with the full intent of bringing her to the first of many climaxes that night, Ulfric removed his finger and bit down on her nub before closing his lips around her and sucking. 

Ulfric could have sworn that her pleasured scream shook the entire castle.  He continued to tongue-fuck her through her orgasm, and was only stopped when a loud pounding sounded on his door. 

“Jarl Ulfric!  Is everything alright?”

The Nord growled, and lifted his head from between Isolena’s legs to glare at the closed door.

“I’m fine, you imbeciles!” he barked.

“I’m sorry my Jarl, we heard screaming and –”

“I’m with a woman!  And the next man to interrupt me will be _publicly flogged_!”

“My apologies, my Jarl.  We didn’t know you were expecting –”

“ ** _LEAVE!!_** ”   

Ulfric’s anger was tempered by a light laugh, and he turned to see Isolena sitting up, her hair sticking to her neck and her skin glistening with sweat.  She smiled, and scooted forward to place a soft kiss on his lips. 

Ulfric relaxed into the kiss, and was so engrossed in what Isolena was doing with her mouth that he didn’t realize her ulterior motive until it was too late.

Before he knew what was happening, Ulfric found himself suddenly on his back, with Isolena straddling his hips and smirking down at him. 

Ulfric panted, and immediately tried to sit up.  Isolena only shoved him back down with a wicked grin.  He tried again to force himself up, but Isolena kept her hands on his shoulders and ground her wet core against his bare stomach.  Ulfric groaned and bucked his hips upwards, which he belatedly realized was a mistake.  Isolena’s grin widened, and she shifted her position.  He felt her tantalizing warmth right where he most wanted it, and he groaned.  He lifted his hips again, and Isolena obliged.

She started grinding against his covered length, and Ulfric’s groans increased in volume.  He would have closed his eyes to savor the sensations, but he was entranced by the sight of Isolena on top of him, her head thrown back in ecstasy.  Her juices stained the crotch of his pants, and his cock throbbed at the contact.  Isolena sighed as she continued to rub herself against him, and she lowered her head to gaze down at him with heavy lidded eyes. 

“You know, _Jarl Ulfric_ ,” she breathily laughed. “I think you rather like me.”

She pressed herself down on him again, and Ulfric made a strangled noise.  This woman was going to be the death of him.

He tried to sit up once more, but with surprising strength she shoved him back onto the bed.  And then she was laying on top of him, her face inches away from his and her breasts brushing against his chest.

Isolena grinned at the pinned Nord, and gave him a slow, heated kiss.  Ulfric growled, and she took his lower lip between her teeth.  She gave it a playful tug, and then kissed at his bearded jaw.  Then his neck, which she started sucking and licking at.  She trailed her hot mouth lower, and Ulfric’s breathing grew heavier.  She kissed her way down to his naval, and only stopped when she reached the waistband of his pants.  Giving the jarl a wicked look, she immediately went about unlacing the trousers and Ulfric could only watch with growing lust as she yanked the fabric away. 

So close, they were _so close_.  He was going to bed this woman tonight.  He was going to fuck her into Oblivion and back…

He didn’t miss the way her eyes darkened with desire as she gazed upon the sizeable bulge in his smallclothes.  Her eyes met his, and she licked her lips.

Were she not holding his hips down he would have flipped her over and taken her right then. 

She leaned down to kiss around his thighs, and Ulfric gave a frustrated groan at her relentless teasing.  She laughed, gave him a wicked little grin, and then bit the flesh of his inner thigh, so close but still too far…

Ulfric bucked his hips upward, and Isolena laughed again.  But mercifully she seemed to be done teasing.  Her eyes brightened, she took in a deep breath, and tore away the fabric of his smallclothes.

Isolena froze.

And Ulfric stopped breathing. 


	4. Chapter 4

Isolena had bedded an Orc, once.  Moth gro-Bagol, to be precise.  It had been after she’d broken up the little feast at Reachcliff Cave, and the constant thanks she received from Brother Verulus had only agitated her more on the way back to Markarth.  

Thankfully, her aimless wanderings had led her into Understone Keep and straight to Moth.  Smithing wasn’t one of Isolena’s specialties, but she was evidently better than the local apprentice, and it was an excellent activity to keep her mind from wandering to the disgusting altar of Namira.

Moth had complimented her on how well she sharpened a particular sword.  When his break time rolled around, she went to work on _his_ sword.  And oh what a _magnificent_ sword it had been.  When the Orc was pounding into her, spreading her wider than she’d ever been spread and whiting out her vision with every thrust, she’d been sure she’d never have a lover who could match him. 

But here she was; sitting between Ulfric’s legs and staring at the most _massive cock_ she had ever seen.

She knew the prospective High King was well-endowed – what she had felt while kissing him, grabbing him, and grinding against him told her that much.  But the undergarments he wore were evidently much more constricting than she thought. 

Ulfric could put any Orc to shame.  _Dibella’s tits_ , Isolena was willing to bet he could put a _giant_ to shame.

“Something the matter?”

With a start Isolena realized she had been staring, and looked up at the man to whom the magnificent member belonged. 

Was that… _worry_ , in his eyes?  Trepidation?

He wasn’t actually… _self-conscious_ about his _cock_ , was he?

“If you don’t think you can take it…” his tone of voice was challenging, but Isolena saw through it immediately. 

He _was_ self-conscious.  He was giving her a way out. 

It must have scared other women away. 

Well, she wasn’t other women.  And legitimate challenge or not, she was rising to it. 

So Isolena smirked at the Jarl of Windhelm. 

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” she chuckled.  “I just want to…slow things down a notch.  _Savor_ the moment.”

To punctuate her point, she leaned forward and gave a languid lick up his shaft.  Ulfric shuddered, and Isolena smiled at her victory. 

She didn’t continue attending to his throbbing erection, not immediately at least.  She shifted her position so she was laying vertical next to Ulfric, her head near his pelvis and vice versa.

“But I don’t want to lose my place while attending to you, _Jarl Ulfric_.  If you wouldn’t mind…?”

She thought she caught a glimmer of understanding in Ulfric’s eyes, and by way of answer he grabbed her hips and pulled them towards his mouth.

“Any opportunity to make you _scream_ is welcome,” he purred, and Isolena shivered as he breathed against her entrance.

“And this time, the guards won’t come running to save you.”

He gave her an experimental flick of his tongue then, and Isolena slowly inhaled and arched her back.  But she couldn’t just sit back and enjoy his highly skilled tongue, this time.  No, she fully intended to fuck Ulfric Stormcloak that night.  But before she could she needed to get _him_ ready as well. 

_Next time,_ she thought. _I’ll bring oils.  I can help him apply them, and I can get him off with my hand.  Or maybe he’ll do it himself and I’ll watch._

That was a tempting thought indeed.  But the option she had right now wasn’t exactly a terrible one either. 

Isolena brought her hand to her mouth and licked it.  She rubbed the saliva between her fingers, and then she reached out and began to stroke at Ulfric’s impressive girth.  She could feel the blood pumping through the organ, and her own heartbeat spiked from excitement. 

She started just by pumping him, and Ulfric moaned into her core.  His deep, rumbling voice sent _wonderful_ vibrations through her whole body.  She rewarded the sensation by licking along his length again, and he responded by thrusting his tongue into her.

And so they went; entering into a sort of contest to see who could pleasure the other better.  Isolena privately concluded that Ulfric had the unfair advantage of having already eaten her out earlier that night, and she was still sensitive from the experience.  But she still did all she could to show him that he wasn’t the only one with talented tongue. 

Running her muscle along his girth wasn’t enough.  Isolena knew that deep-throating Ulfric would be impossible, but she would be damned if she didn’t at least _try_ to get as close to that as she could. 

But either her mouth was smaller than she thought, or Ulfric was somehow even bigger than he looked.  She could barely fit the head of his cock in, and she had to be mindful to not let her teeth touch his sensitive member.  But she managed, and Ulfric rumbled in approval.  He slipped a finger in next to his tongue to show her just how appreciative he was, and she in turn ran her tongue along his tip.  His finger tweaked her clit and she sucked him off. 

He was lasting longer than Isolena expected him to; he had expelled enough pre-cum that she could lap up and mix with her spit to coat his member with, but he had yet to climax.  She, on the other hand, was close.  Unbearably close. 

This was when Ulfric added in a second finger next to his tongue. 

Isolena shuddered, but tried to stay focused on pumping and sucking the man’s cock as his fingers slid in and out of her.  She really should have realized what he was planning when she felt his tongue suddenly leave her – stopping a building climax in its tracks – but Isolena was too busy using every trick she knew to try and make Ulfric come before she did.

She was rubbing the tip of his organ with her thumb, applying the slightest bit of pressure as she licked along the base when she felt him slide in a third finger.  She gasped, and she felt Ulfric shudder at the exhale of air on his sex, but they both regained their composure. 

She licked every inch of him that she could, and her hand aided her in reaching what she couldn’t fit in her mouth.  She stroked and squeezed and sucked at him, all the while Ulfric relentlessly thrusting his fingers in and out of her.  He added a fourth, and she practically screamed around him.  He twisted and curled his fingers inside her, then without warning slipped his entire hand in.

Isolena exploded.  She saw stars, and she screamed around Ulfric’s cock.  He didn’t stop with her release, but instead continued fisting her through the waves of her climax.  She was sensitive and shaking and an overstimulated mess, but still Ulfric showed no mercy. 

Somewhere in her pleasure-fogged mind she managed to remind herself that her jarl needed tending to as well, and with renewed vigor started licking and sucking once more.  Evidently her own climax was enough to push Ulfric close to the edge, as she tasted more and more of his seed as it leaked from his tip.  Still being fist-fucked, Isolena took in Ulfric’s girth as far as it would go and clamped her mouth around him before sucking as hard as she could while her tongue teased at his flesh. 

That was enough.  Ulfric yelled as he spurted into Isolena’s mouth and relented in his fisting.  What she couldn’t swallow she instead licked and spread along his cock.  Seed mixed with saliva lubricated his member well, though Isolena wondered if he could ready himself before it dried and she had to do it all over again. 

Deciding to not worry about that at the moment, she released him with a pop and looked at Ulfric over her shoulder.  As she did so, she lifted her hand to her mouth and deliberately licked clean her fingers. 

Ulfric’s eyes were hazy, but they brightened when their gazes met, and he followed her suit.  He slowly slid his hand out of her aching sex ran his tongue along it. 

“I didn’t tire you out too much, did I old man?” she initiated conversation, and rose to a sitting position once she had finished cleaning her hand. 

Ulfric smirked, and he responded to the goading exactly the way Isolena wanted him to.  He propped himself up so he could stare down at her, and reached one calloused hand out to gently trace the curve of her breast.

“I am not so old that I cannot keep my strength about me when a beautiful woman is naked in my bed.”  He tweaked her nipple with his fingers, and Isolena sharply inhaled. 

“Well, either way, it’s taking you far longer than I’d like for you to regain your strength,” the Imperial breathed.  She was goading him on.  Direct challenges got him off, she knew, and she really did want to get on with things soon.  But in the meantime…

She began to tweak the breast left alone by Ulfric.  The Nord’s eyes followed her motions, and she saw how his eyes darkened.  She grinned, and her hand slowly trailed lower until she’d reached her still-swollen clit.  She pinched at the slick nub, and threw her head back as she moaned.  She was deliberately over-acting, and hoping that the sight of her pleasuring herself would be enough to get Ulfric hard again.

It was.  Ulfric grabbed her and pulled her to him to crash his lips against hers.  Isolena moaned into his mouth, and her moans only grew louder when she felt the thick, warm shaft pressed against her behind. 

She and Ulfric parted from the kiss, both panting and staring intently into each other’s eyes.  What passed between them was wordless, and Isolena saw in his icy blue depths a last chance to get out.  But much like Ulfric she was not one to back down from a challenge.  And so she kissed him fiercely and straddled his lap.  

A thrill was sent through her when she felt his tip press against her entrance, and she could feel a similar sort of shiver pass through Ulfric.  Isolena took in a deep breath, wound her arms around the Jarl of Windhelm, stared into his eyes, and slowly lowered herself onto him. 

Even with all the preparations she and Ulfric had gone through, it hurt.  She was stretched wider than she knew was possible, and Isolena’s mouth fell open as she gasped for air and tried to calm herself.

Ulfric’s Adam ’s apple bobbed, and Isolena could see he was exercising all the control he had.  He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against the Imperials. 

“Breathe,” he whispered to her.  His large hand reached between them, and he tweaked and teased at her clit.  She shuddered at the contact, but it was enough to help urge her on.

“Breathe,” he whispered again. 

They both froze when their hips suddenly met.  Ulfric’s eyes shot open, and he and Isolena stared at each other in a moment of breathless silence. 

She’d done it. 

She was fuller than she’d ever been and stretched to her absolute limits.  She was highly sensitive to every twitch and throb of Ulfric’s cock, and the slightest tremor was enough to send bolts of pleasure spiking through her. 

And she loved it. 

After a moment longer of Isolena adjusting to his girth, they began to move.  They started slowly, with Isolena giving the smallest rolls of her hips.  That alone made her and Ulfric both clutch at each other and moan, though she could feel how he trembled beneath her.  He really _was_ exercising all his self-control. 

Soon Isolena grew comfortable enough to try a more forceful grinding of her hips against Ulfric’s, and he groaned and bucked his hips in response.  And then she began experimenting with ever-so slightly unsheathing him before slamming back home.  That elicited a cry from them both, and not long after they were both panting and groaning as Isolena bounced and Ulfric bucked.    

Gods, in comparison to how Moth had fucked her she and Ulfric were barely moving, but already she was seeing stars.  Ulfric was holding her tight to his chest and had begun peppering kisses along her neck as he groaned and growled with each thrust. 

At first Isolena thought that Ulfric was trying to keep himself from climaxing; he was tense, he was carefully controlling every snap of his hips to meet hers, and she was sure his fingers were going to leave bruises on her arms.  But then he bit down at the base of her neck again, and Isolena gasped as she realized he wasn’t holding back a premature orgasm. 

He was holding back _himself_. 

Isolena’s pleasure-addled brain wasn’t able to comprehend much beyond the feeling of Ulfric filling and stretching her, but it somehow managed to conjure up the image of Ulfric slamming her down on the bed and pounding into her until she screamed.  That thought sent a shudder through the Imperial, and she immediately decided that Ulfric Stormcloak needed to loosen up. 

She pressed her face into his neck and bit down at the flesh there.  Marking him as he had her.  He gave a surprised grunt and his next thrust into her was harder.  Isolena groaned and sucked on the spot before dragging her tongue up his neck until she reached his ear.  She bit him there too, and Ulfric let out a raspy growl and gave another hard thrust. 

“Is that the best you can do?” she whispered in his ear. “I’m the first woman who’s been able to handle you, aren’t I?  You’re practically a _virgin_.”

Ulfric stopped his upward thrusts as he growled and grabbed Isolena’s shoulders.  He forced her away from his neck so he could glare her eyes.  Isolena only smiled in reply. 

He was so _predictable_.

…or so she thought. 

Isolena watched with growing confusion as smirk slowly played across Ulfric’s lips, and he leaned forward to capture her mouth in a soft, almost tender kiss. 

Almost.  There was a teasing quality to it that left the Imperial frustrated.  She showcased this frustration by again rolling her hips against Ulfric’s, and the jarl sharply inhaled before grabbing her hips and stilling her movements. 

“Now now,” he breathed.  “Patience, little Imperial.”  

“I think we’re past the point of being patient, Ulfric,” she pointedly said as her hand traveled down to stroke where they were joined.  Ulfric groaned in response, and he kissed Isolena again before he slowly pushed her back onto the bed. 

He was surprisingly gentle as he altered their position.  He made sure Isolena was laying with her head on a pillow, and all the while they remained sealed together.  The bit of friction caused by their movements made her groan and arch her back in want for more, but Ulfric continued to exercise that superhuman self-control.

_Oh sure, it takes only a few suggestive words and kiss to get him going, but the minute he has his cock in he wants to take things slowly._

But finally, mercifully, Ulfric seemed ready to continue.  Isolena took in a slow breath as the Nord propped her legs over his shoulders, leaving her completely and totally at his mercy.  He carefully unsheathed himself so only the head was left nestled in her warmth…

…and slowly, deliberately drove himself back into her. 

The effect was torturous.  It was a slow build of friction and heat that demanded more.  More speed, more intensity, but all Isolena could do was grasp at the sheets and moan out of frustration and need.

“Bastard,” she gasped as he thrust into her again with his too-slow pace. 

Ulfric gave a low chuckle.  “You’ve used that one before.”

“If you want creativity then you’re going to have to – ” Isolena was cut off by another one of Ulfric’s agonizingly slow penetrations, and she grit her teeth as she tried to swallow the moan that threatened to escape her.

“…earn it,” she gasped out, her chest heavy. 

Ulfric chuckled again, but before Isolena could spit out another retort his large hand was at her clit, and her breath caught in her throat.  He lazily circled the sensitive nub with his thumb, and continued his slow thrusts, and Isolena could have wept. 

“What’s the matter, Dragonborn?” he asked in that low, rumbling voice of his.  “What is it you want?”

Isolena’s gaze narrowed on the jarl’s face, and she felt her pride rear its head.  So, he wanted her to _beg_ him.  Ha!

But Ulfric must have seen the defiance in her eyes, because he applied just enough pressure to that sensitive bundle of nerves to have Isolena keening and arching her back.

“What do you want?” he repeated as the Imperial fought to keep her breath. 

“Do you interrogate everyone this way?” she laughed in reply. 

Ulfric gave her a pinch, and Isolena gave a cry. 

“Fine!  Fine!  I want you to fuck me!  I want you to fuck me again and again until I can’t move!” Isolena panted as she recovered from her outburst, and narrowed her eyes at Ulfric. 

“And I swear: next time I’m going to tie you to the bed if I have to and make you beg for me to the same.”

Ulfric stilled his movements, and stared down at her.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he rasped. 

And then he started slamming into her, and Isolena cried out in a euphoric _“YES!”_

She lost all sense of time as Ulfric pounded into her, and she was only aware of Ulfric filling and spreading her again and again.  She normally disliked being such a passive lover, but for the moment she couldn’t be bothered to care.  _He’d_ put her legs where she couldn’t use them.

Ulfric didn’t seem to mind, either.  When she opened her eyes to look up at him she saw that he was staring down at her with a chilling intensity.  His eyes were like a gale blustering through the Sea of Ghosts; he was relentless and utterly focused on the task at hand.

And as soon as Isolena met that gaze she couldn’t look away.  She was trapped, locked into staring up at Ulfric’s eyes as he pounded into her again and again. 

It was the most erotic thing she had ever experienced.

And as Ulfric continued to snap his hips against hers, Isolena became aware of a growing pressure in her core.  It had been building for quite some time, but she’d been so focused on _Ulfric_ …

She was surprised she’d held out this long.  She was surprised that _he_ had held out this long.  Or perhaps less time than she thought had passed and Ulfric really had fucked her brains out. 

Either way everything seemed to grow more and more intense.  Ulfric’s thrusts felt stronger, the wet slapping sounds of their coupling sounded louder, their combined breathing felt heavier.  Isolena started to chant Ulfric’s name – along with a few liberally dispersed obscenities detailing just how _much_ she was enjoying the sex – and in turn, she heard Ulfric growl her name. 

In the end they came together, both shouting as Isolena’s walls spasmed and clenched around Ulfric’s cock, milking him of the seed he was spurting into her womb.  Their Thu’ums shook the walls, and furniture toppled and dishes shattered on the stone floor.  Neither cared. 

Ulfric mercifully fell to the side so as not to crush Isolena with his weight.  But he didn’t remove his softening member from her, and instead pulled the tiny Imperial to his chest.  She had no complaints about that arrangement, and was content to lay her head against his chest and listen to the sound of his rapidly beating heart.

Their post-coital haze was only interrupted by more panicked knocking on the door.

“Jarl Ulfric!  What’s going on in there?  We heard –”

“I told you,” the spent Jarl of Windhelm tiredly called. “Now leave me be so I can continue to enjoy the company of this marvelous woman without your constant mothering!”

The guards didn’t respond, which Ulfric must have took to mean they got the message.  He turned to look down at Isolena, who was – for once – simply smiling at the jarl.  Not smirking, but really _smiling_. 

“Well, I’m glad it was good for you, too,” she hummed as she snuggled against him.  A deep chuckle reverberated through his  chest, and he began to gently stroke her hair. 

“Good is an understatement, Dragonborn.  That was…”

When Ulfric couldn’t conjure up the right word, Isolena gave a low chuckle and pressed a kiss against the man’s chest.  “I couldn’t agree more.”

Ulfric shifted then, and his gaze grew a bit more serious as he looked down at the Imperial.  “I hope you’re not expecting this to offer you any…advantages in the war.  If you’re serious about enlisting you still need to climb the ranks as any other recruit would.”

Isolena laughed then, and she grinned at Ulfric. 

“Oh please.  Why would I want to do that?  Cutting corners is absolutely no fun at all.  I much prefer the challenge of rising to power the hard way; it makes the privileges of the rank seem all the sweeter.”

Ulfric was staring down at her again, and he moved his hand down from her hair to her shoulder to rub small circles into the skin there.

“You’re a remarkable woman, Isolena Olcanis.”

“I know I am.”

The Dragonborn smirked up at Ulfric, though that smirk quickly turned into a look of amused incredulously. 

“Stendarr’s balls, what did I _do_?”

“I told you you’re a marvelous woman.”

“And _you_ have the _cock_ of a _horse_!”

“You weren’t complaining a moment ago.”

“I’m just not so sure your back can take another round like that, old man.”

“I thought you said you wanted to tie me down and make me beg.”

“My my, you really _do_ have a thing for insubordination, don’t you?”

“Only from beautiful women who can make up for it in bed.”

“Then you’d better find some rope and stamina potions for good measure.”

“I’ll send the guards for them immediately.  And in the meantime…”


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might not be the end. I have a few more ideas of where I can go with Isolena and Ulfric (plot and porn alike, don't you worry) and might make those ideas into more stories.

To say Ulfric was in unusually good spirits the next morning would have been an understatement.  Despite the lack of sleep he was bright and almost cheerful.  And when Galmar walked into the throne room, dark circles under his eyes and a distinctively grumpier than usual air about him, Ulfric also became very smug. 

“I hope that wench cost you every last septim,” his housecarl growled. “Because you two kept up the whole palace last night, and if you order her again I’ll have to start paying for a room at Candlehearth Hall.  And you can rely on the _whore_ to save you from any Imperial assassins.”

“She _was_ an Imperial assassin, actually,” Ulfric replied with a small quirk of his lips.  “Also a thief, and a _masterful_ politician.  But not a whore.  Nor, as it turns out, a cannibal.”

“What are you –” Galmar was cut off by the doors to the palace being flung open, and Ulfric’s smile widened as a small, leather-clad figure strode into the hall.  And he noted with considerable pride that although her gait was confident, there was a slight stiffness to it. 

She stopped only a few feet away from where Ulfric and Galmar stood, and placed her hands on her hips before she lifted her chin proudly. 

“I heard something about true sons and daughters of Skyrim being called to arms.  I’m not really a son or daughter of Skyrim, but the country has its…charms,” her dark eyes flickered over to Ulfric, and the two shared a private smile. 

“Perhaps I could be a _friend_ of the family?”

Galmar was completely befuddled.  His head turned as he looked back and forth between Ulfric and Isolena, and then the realization dawned on him. 

The housecarl groaned, and glared at Ulfric. 

“Once I’m done testing this whelp, Jarl Ulfric, I’d like to talk to you about a raise in my pay.  A pair of over-eager rabbits are driving me out of my home.”

Ulfric’s smile widened.

 


End file.
